


Burned Cookies

by CompanyPanda, PandaFalls



Category: OC House, The House at Panda Falls
Genre: M/M, Mild Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-28
Updated: 2015-12-28
Packaged: 2018-05-09 22:44:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5558360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CompanyPanda/pseuds/CompanyPanda, https://archiveofourown.org/users/PandaFalls/pseuds/PandaFalls
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>These are some short, loosely connected scenarios that are meant to sum up the friendly supportive affection that Poet gives to Violet when he needs it. Oftentimes Violet's trauma-led addiction to physical affection will lead him to find solace in Poet's attentions while Barnaby Hughes is gone, but he always gravitates right back to Hughes when he returns, as he is Violet's best friend and favorite person in the whole wide world. Poet has never had an issue with this, for he knows that there is no competing for that emotional bond.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In the Kitchen

One winter afternoon, Barnaby stepped into the kitchen doorway to find Violet sitting at the kitchen table with his head resting side-down on its surface, head facing towards the oven. A baking pan was resting atop the stove and a light cloud of smoke drifted up from its surface. Poet sat in the chair next to the boy, one arm around Violet's back and the other hand soothingly running his fingers through the boy's hair. Violet looked drained and he was sniffling as though he just finished crying.  
  
"Now now," Poet reassured softly, "I'm sure there are plenty of people who have burned their cookies on the first try. You're learning."  
  
Violet gave another sniff. "I was going to give them to Barnaby..." His voice was quiet and tired like the calm after a storm of tears.  
  
"Humans have an idiom that says 'It's the thought that counts'. You know he will appreciate the fact that you tried. There are other things you can try. Why don't we make him some stir fry instead?"  
  
Violet lifted his head and turned it to look over at Poet, his eyes wide shining with a small bud of hopeful excitement. "You will teach me that?"  
  
Poet grinned. "Sure, kiddo."  
  
Despite Poet's close proximity to Violet, Barnaby did not try to step in and announce his presence to break up the interaction. Violet was happy and taken care of, which had always been the most important thing for Barnaby, as far as the boy was concerned.


	2. At the Grocery Store

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Violet often gets distracted, but someone is always there to help him out of his head when he gets himself lost in his thoughts.

Getting lost in the grocery store was a common experience that many people shared, Violet learned. Even as he stood in the baking isle and looked around with great uncertainty, he spotted a small child doing the same. The biggest difference between him and the child at that moment was that her mother turned the corner right then and quickly reclaimed her offspring into the safety of the shopping cart. Would Violet have gotten lost if he had sat in the shopping cart instead? He certainly would have fit, at least. Due to the jumpy nature of the humans in town, he had found that it was best to freeze his tentacles and leave them at home so that he could fit into some normal human cloths and cover his head with a hoodie.  
  
Violet walked out of one isle and down the next, his eyes wandering over the labels on the food with the same curiosity that had distracted him and separated him from the group in the first place. He wondered if his friends had found all of the ingredients they needed. Would they leave without him if he did not find them by the time they were finished here? What if they could never find him and he was stuck here forever? He did not know the way back to the house. He did not even know who to ask without frightening them with his red, semi-transparent face smiling down that them. If he could not find his friends, he would be very low on options. The experiment began to whimper with a growing anxiety as he stood among the produce section and looked around, his fingers clutching tightly onto the sack of flower that Athanas had asked him to buy. His fear was beginning to outweigh his logical thought processes. He was going to cry...  
  
"Oh but darling, you look so lovely when you smile~" Violet's eyes widened at the sound of the familiar voice in his ear, his heart lightening at the feeling of the hands gently gripping his upper arms from behind. He turned around with a shaky gasp of relief and pressed his face into Poet's chest, feeling the anxiety die away as the man wrapped his arms around the boy and gave a chuckle. "Got yourself lost, did you?"  
  
"I'm sorry," came the soft muffled reply from the surface of the man's jacket.  
  
"Oh, don't be. Happens to the best of us."  
  
Violet continued to hold onto the flour as his friend hugged his fears away, not even bothering to step back when he was soon let go again. Poet turned to lead Violet back to the cart and the boy let go of the flour with one hand to hold onto the back of the man's sleeve as Poet's hands disappeared into his jacket pockets. On their way past the dairy display, they happened to walk near an Asian man with tan skin and a long black braid, his eyes focused on the yogurt bottle in his hand until he seemed to sense Poet coming and grew tense. His fist involutary clenched, causing a creamy splotch of yogurt to pop out of the top and splat onto his cheek. Poet gave a low laugh and a knowing grin. "That look suits you," he purred as he passed the man who looked about ready to have steam pop from his ears. Violet didn't question it. Poet seemed to know a lot of people from a lot of places and they all tended to have very distinct reactions to seeing him again.  
  
Violet's mind moved away from the long-haired man as they continued on. "I got distracted," the boy said softly as they walked.  
  
Poet's lips quirked up into a half-smile. "I guessed as much."  
  
"I get distracted a lot. I tangle Sigma's Christmas lights and forget whose present I'm wrapping and how long my cookies have been in the oven."  
  
Poet gave an understanding nod, his eyes still on the space ahead of them. "You have a fast-moving mind, Violet. Do yourself a favor and get into the habit of writing yourself reminders. But you're not giving yourself enough credit. Don't forget that you untangled those lights and repackaged those presents and made Barnaby some kick-ass stir fry."  
  
Violet gave a little smile at this. "You helped."  
  
The two turned a corner and entered an isle to find Barnaby inspecting the Christmas ciders with an air of trepidation. He turned at the sound of Violet's happy squeak and caught the approaching boy in a squeezing side hug. "There he is," he said with a chuckle. "How's the weather up in th'clouds today, space shot?"  
  
"I found flour!" Violet moved to drop the sack into the cart, only to find an identical package already there. "Oh. You did too..."  
  
Barnaby gave Violet a hearty pat on the back. "Tha's okay, V, we needed more flour fer that, er, other thing, anyway."  
  
"Oh, alright then!" Violet set the flour down next to the other one and placed his hand on the side of the cart so that he wouldn't lose track of it again. Occasionally the other two would ask the experiment for the shopping list and he would rattle it off again, emitting the items in the cart that he had already crossed off on the list in his mind. He was happy to be helpful. Of all of the fun things to do during this happy holiday season, he was sure that the helping part was his very favorite.


	3. In the Living Room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Does Poet's touchy relationship with Violet bother Barnaby?  
> Full writing credit for this chapter goes to CompanyPanda

"Does it bother you? That Violet likes to hang around with me?" Poet asked one day, looking over at Barnaby from their opposite seats on the large sofa.

Barnaby scoffed, arms crossed over his chest as his eyes left the screen. "Fuck no. I'm not some overly jealous Roman soldier. Violet can hang out with whoever he bloody well chooses."

Poet studied him as the two looked at one another, the demon with his arms crossed more loosely, one leg thrown over the other. They were opposites on many levels. Barnaby in his loud, brash ways and his heels and stockings, Poet with his quiet, calculated moves and fine Armani suits. "We're not so different, you know."

"Bollocks. We, are nothin' alike. Knowin' yew can't really harm Violet's the only reason I let him hang around with yew. I don't think he'd understand what the fuck it means to be a demon, but as far as bad people in this house, yer t'rotten one."

Poet put on a mock look of hurt, resting a hand on his chest. "You wound me, Hughes." He smirked after a moment. "So, when did you actually tell Violet about your... past?"

Barnaby glared at the demon, pointing at him. "Yew keep yer goddamn mouth shut."

Poet laughed, rolling his eyes. "Oh, that's right, you haven't. We don't want to tarnish the holy golden light he holds you in." The demon sighed, pushing himself out of his seat, starting to walk out of the living room but stopping by Barnaby's side. "Like I said, you and I aren't so different. It's just that I don't hide what I am. I accept my darkness, and everyone around me just does the same." He looked down at the redhead, Barnaby glancing up at him with a clenched jaw. "I wonder if they would accept yours, after all this time of hiding it?" Poet smirked, winking at the Brit before he turned and walked away.


End file.
